If I speak truth without knowing until later when affirmed, then I know it was another.

If I speak truth, yet woven in it are greater and deeper truths, constructed without intent nor awareness, then I know it was another.

If my simplicity conceals a manifold complexity with greater simplicity, ie beauty, then I know it was another.

If what I wrote or said long ago is ever new, surprising and constantly inspiring with each re-reading or re-hearing, as if they are living and ever growing, then I know it was another.

If every thought is not only consistent with all that's revealed but reveals yet more, especially that most subtle but utterly profound, that I cannot help but believe that I've transcended into a realm beyond all earth, then I know it was another.

If it is what it is, is so familiar, like one knew from long ago, and never apart, inseparable as soul and spirit, heart and mind, that it's mere shadow is sufficient for proof, then I know it was another.

i saw a dog in
my mind when i was seven
truth profound i saw

He watered the flowers in my chest and they blossomed.
I showed him all of the colours on my tongue and he stayed.

He’s like a breath of fresh air,
clearing my mind but filling my lungs.
It’s different and warm. It’s hopeful.
This feels so easy. It’s serene.

There is something remarkable in the way he speaks,
the way he laughs and whispers and sings.
It will remind you of knowledge infused innocence.
Until we’re ******* each other in the kitchen.

We kiss and it’s like I’ve tasted everything sweet,
while my body is being set on fire and
the butterflies’ wings still flutter with desire.
I lay my ear flat against his chest, as I try to
memorise the rhythm of his heartbeat.

We’re driving on an empty highway past borrowed land.
“Paris” is playing at volume thirty five.
I look over and you take my hand.
The rear view mirror is reflected in your green eyes
while the corners of your mouth turns up into a smile,
almost in slow motion. Now I can feel my own grow.

We stay silent but I know and you know:
this is the most profound feeling in life.

-Now here is why I said that.

Think about this poem's title. Did you think it was something deep or profound?Did you think it was some great truth?
nope. I just took some words that sounded pretty and strung them together.
So why put your trust in words that you have no understanding of, but that sound nice, and persuade you into being content and not asking questions?